My body seeks tranquility. Doesn't matter what state I am in. I need rest. I want to be absent from technology, yet I find myself so drawn to it. I fear change, yet I embrace it ironically. Those intangible pages casts an invisible heavy weight to envelope, to suffocate me, always, silently. The one that got away. Always will be.

Something will always be missing and we learn, to just live with it, to delicately put dirt into that hole in the ground to seal it up briefly; so that the rain won't get in, and we won't fall in. All that energy to break free is slipping. We understand the chase very well, and it will not end well. At least now, we get to revisit the grave every once in awhile to run our hands on the surface, to trace the circumference of it. To feel our breath get sucked out from under us and the feeling of lost replay each time we kneel to the ground.

They had formed unspoken bridges to lost days by making it familiar to us alone. Yet their ghost in our heads haunts us more beautifully than in real time. A certain charm gets extinguished, all that we presumed becomes repulsive to approach like an awkward vibration in the air creating a discomfort and an urge to evacuate. So I chose not in reality.

Shot by Aiae - Brown Butterfly

I find my eyes lingering at a certain direction and my foot steps slowing down at certain intervals. As I catch my breath I know, this isn't the same girl, despite the unchanged surroundings. If we didn't had these devices to determine time and space, and just maybe if all these hadn't had their definition in place for mankind; I could still be at the same place. Unmoved. Unchanged. Yes. Trapped.

I feel unwell. I am not too sure if it is the lingering smell of thinner. Or the fact that I am annoyed with this constant frequency of a certain piercing pitch ringing in my ears. Hush. Really. It would be nice to dissolve into any form of nothingness available.

The boy has been on my mind lately. Tell me the truth. And lately I felt again that strange inner stirring. There is something growing inside me, dividing and multiplying. I can feel it, in my stomach, round and hard, about the size of a grapefruit. It sucks the air out of my lungs and gnaws the marrow from my bones. The long dormancy has changed it. From being a meek and biddable thing, it has become a bully. It refuses all negotiation, blocks discussion, insists on its rights. It won't take no for an answer. The truth is, it echoes, calling after the boy, watching his departing back. And then it turns to me, tightens its grip on my innards, gives a twist.

I cannot hear you. I cannot see you. I am in another world, and you are just a ghost.

-Shot by D.C- Beyond The Fog-

Valedictory

Today I grasp the first lesson of saying goodbye in this realm. The last task I will ever do for you was to decipher the scribbles on your paper and signing you into technology. You told me, you chose me. Whether it was true, it does not matter, I was glad, awkward but still, glad. So I will never know the secrets behind those tall, bright lit, misted doors, or that pat on the back and the squeeze on your shoulder. We did not speak much, just the usual smile and a nod; it seemed like the only way we ever conversed. Strangely, I will miss that. You saw me came, I saw you left. Isn't that ironic.

If I could pick one song to sum up my predicament / life... this would be it.

An old man, turned 98
He won the lottery, and died the next day
It's a black fly in your chardonnay
It's a death row pardon, two minutes too late
And isn't it ironic?
Don't you think?

It's like rain, on your wedding day
It's a free ride, when you've already paid
It's the good advice, that you just didn't take
And who would've thought? It figures

Mr. Play-It-Safe, was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase, and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life, to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought, "Well isn't this nice?"
And isn't it ironic?
Don't you think?

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out
When you think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up in your face

A traffic jam, when you're already late
A "No smoking" sign, on your cigarette break
It's like ten thousand spoons, when all you need is a knife
It's meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn't it ironic?
Don't you think?
A little too ironic?
Yeah I really do think

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
And life has a funny, funny way, of helping you out
Helping you out


Ironic - Alanis Morissette

Shot by Matricaria - Lamb